Interface to Face
by Emmalyn
Summary: EDI tries to understand what it means to be in a relationship, and Joker has no idea how to answer her questions. But a dangerous side-mission...and a nosy crew...might just help them figure it out. Joker/EDI; light drama & fluff. In-progress. T for language, will change to M eventually.
1. Chapter 1

It was on one of their visits to the Citadel, during a game of "Hot or Not," that EDI finally decided to get to the point. Or more precisely, that Joker prompted her to do so.

"Dalatross Linron."

"Eww!" Joker's face scrunched up in disgust. "Aw man, now I'm never gonna be able to scrub _that_ mental image from my brain. Thanks a lot, EDI."

EDI tilted her head at him. "I am merely curious."

"Yeah, you've said that before." Joker's expression shifted to suspicion. "But you never gave me a straight answer the last time I asked—what's your point, exactly?"

"To what are you referring, Jeff?" EDI asked, though she knew the answer. Or rather, she could predict the answer with 99.6% accuracy.

He rolled his eyes. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. This game you made up. You seem so interested in my preferences all of a sudden. Shouldn't you basically know that already, anyway?" Joker rubbed the back of his neck in a self-conscious gesture. "Given that you, uh, know my extranet history?"

EDI's silvery eyes blinked twice. She had predicted his answer correctly, as well as his follow-up question. An answer had already been prepared. "I am attempting to determine what types of females you find attractive, Jeff. It is well-known among humans that the types of females that a male usually observes or pursues are not necessarily their one preferred 'type.' I have ascertained this after many viewings of the twentieth-centuries documentaries known as 'soap operas.'" At his raised eyebrow, she added, "That was a joke."

"Oh boy," Joker muttered. "Look, I get that you're curious, but why now? Why me? You seem awfully pushy all of a sudden."

In response, EDI calmly folded her hands on the table and turned her gaze toward the people seated at the bar. The very natural gesture seemed at odds with her obviously synthetic appearance. (She had been practicing.) "I have analyzed your behavior toward me during these past few weeks. You described to Commander Shepard a physical attraction to this body." Her optical processors picked up Joker's slight flush, but she did not react. "This contradicts our conversation many months ago in which you stated that you felt nothing but platonic emotion toward me. In order to make sense of this discrepancy, and to increase my knowledge of humans in general, I devised this simple game. Do you understand?" She finally looked him in the eye.

Joker chuckled. It sounded a bit forced even to him. "Haha, wow, Mom, I didn't know you'd been watching me _that_ closely. Guess I'd better pick up my room and work on that posture thing some more, huh?"

When EDI continued to stare at him unblinkingly, he looked away and shifted in his chair. She frowned. "Are you uncomfortable, Jeff?" Her internal clock told her that they had remained seated for nearly an hour. Too long, she thought, moving to stand up.

He waved at her to sit back down. "Nah, I'm fine. Really. Just, um. Not sure how to respond to that one."

She thought for a moment. "Perhaps this is a less ambiguous question: Do you find this body attractive, Jeff?"

"Well, yeah," he answered honestly. "I mean, you're basically the ideal woman right there, you know? Like a...a supermodel or something."

That was the response she had expected, given her previously-collected data. She filed the information away for later. But she wasn't finished. "Do you generally find holograms attractive?"

"Not really," he said. "What are you-"

EDI cut him off. "Did you find my virtual form in the previous Normandy attractive?"

"Uh, no, you were a _glowing blue ball_," he said, with the kind of exaggerated patience he usually reserved for small children. Or Shepard.

"But you find my current physical form pleasing," EDI repeated. It wasn't phrased as a question, but Joker answered anyway.

"Yeah, of course." He grinned. "What's not to like, right?" His hands traced imaginary womanly curves in the air. "Seriously. That was like, the best upgrade _ever_. Being on the bridge has never been so good." Joker's grin softened into a dreamy, faraway smile.

EDI's servos whirred. She had predicted this outcome correctly, with only a 3.4% margin of error, and yet something deep in her core processors said _wrong-wrong-wrong_. Logically, she knew that there was no reason for this internal disagreement. Nor the rush of confusingly useless data that came along with it. Perhaps one of her calculations was off, or one of her security protocols needed an update. It would be wise to check with Shepard when they returned to the Normandy. Inconsistencies could become liabilities in the heat of battle.

Her smooth, metallic features showed no sign of her distress. A momentary consensus reached, she merely nodded and, after Joker had finished his drink, followed him back to the ship.

-0-0-0-

Joker stole a glance at his android companion on the elevator up to the CIC. He was perfectly happy with openly staring at her most of the time, but this was an unusual situation. Usually EDI wouldn't shut up after they got home from a Citadel jaunt. What was up with this weird silence? Was she giving him the silent treatment for some reason? Her perfectly neutral profile offered no answers, and he mentally facepalmed. Right. Robot. No facial cues.

EDI was still thinking. The Normandy was docked safely, so she had time to devote to untangling her various conflicting processes. Still, she needed to talk to Shepard as soon as possible. When the elevator doors whooshed open, she turned. "Jeff, I need to talk to Commander Shepard. Will you be alright on the bridge by yourself for a while?"

He rolled his eyes. "I don't need a nursemaid, EDI, you know that. Go for it. I'll catch you later." His hand lifted in a wave as he stepped out of the elevator. EDI didn't move, letting the doors close. Her finger hovered over the the button that would take her to Shepard's quarters. Shepard had been under severe stress lately, however, so instead she pressed the button that would take her to the Engineering deck.

It was not as though she had to actually push the buttons, since she was still essentially the Normandy, but as she'd explained to Shepard, interacting with people and things in the way that the crew normally would was...pleasant. It made her feel as though she belonged.

She stepped out of the elevator when it stopped, her boots ringing a little on the grated floor. The two engineers from the original SR-2, Gabriella and Kenneth, stood at their stations. They were not speaking to each other, appearing to be absorbed in their work, but Kenneth was playing a card game on his console.

EDI cleared her throat to announce herself. Everyone jumped a little. "Oh, hello, EDI," said Adams, recovering more quickly than the other two. "Can I help you?" Ken slapped his keyboard a few times in a futile effort to hide his terrible poker hand.

"Hello, Engineer Adams," EDI said, then turned to Gabby. "May I speak to you for a moment, Engineer Daniels?"

"Oh, sure," Gabby said. "Let's go somewhere more private, though." She stuck her tongue out at Ken, who was waggling his eyebrows suggestively at her, and steered EDI out of the room by one arm. Ken's shout of "take pictures!" made Gabby roll her eyes.

When they were safely out of earshot down on the lower engineering deck, Gabby sat down on a crate and gestured for EDI to do the same. She did. "So what's up, EDI? Why'd you come all the way down here when you could've just talked to me through my console?" Gabby's tone wasn't unkind, just curious.

EDI was quiet for a moment. She was unsure of how to present her current dilemma in terms that the woman would understand. "Engineer Daniels, I have a question."

She smiled. "I gathered that much. And really, call me Gabby."

"Alright, Gabby," said EDI. "I find that I am..."-_confused, hurt, upset_-"unsure about a certain aspect of human behavior. Or more precisely, the reasoning behind that behavior."

"Okay, shoot."

EDI looked Gabby in the eye. "What do you feel is the meaning of the word 'attraction'?"

The engineer's eyebrows rose. "Uh, well, I guess it's a feeling of liking someone, for how they look or just how they...are," she finished lamely. "I mean, everybody's tastes are different, but a lot of people are attracted to stuff like a sense of humor, or a nice smile, or a kind spirit." Gabby winced inwardly when EDI didn't respond immediately. This was tougher to explain than she'd thought it would be.

A few of EDI's processes had fallen quiet at the realization that she had none of those things. "You mean that a person can be attracted to another's actions?" At Gabby's nod, EDI continued. "Can attraction exist merely for a physical form?"

Gabby chuckled. "Yeah, you can be attracted just to someone's body. Even if their personality isn't really ideal." She wrinkled her nose, thinking of one person in particular. Ugh, that man.

"Ah." EDI said quietly. She turned to stare at the bulkhead, processors working to assimilate this new data into her memory. Something unidentifiable still jangled.

The soft syllable made Gabby pause. "Wait, EDI...why are you asking me this?"

"Your interactions with others on the Normandy indicate that you are knowledgeable about relationships," the android replied, part of her mind still churning. "You are an observant person. Other members of the crew approach you for advice."

Gabby gave her a suspicious look. "That's not what I meant. Why are _you_ asking me this, EDI? Is something bothering you?"

_Bothering...?_ EDI turned to the other woman. "You could say that."

"Is this about Joker?" Gabby asked, a hint of a wry smile curling the corners of her mouth.

The woman really was perceptive, EDI thought. She blinked, intending to say _not exclusively_, but what came out was, "Yes."

Gabby put a comforting hand on EDI's shoulder. Her synthetic skin was softer than she'd expected, and warm. "Look," she said gently. "I know you guys have a great relationship. But Joker's a _guy_." EDI's blank stare prompted her to continue. She sighed. "What I mean is, you have to be direct with him. Blunt. Tell him exactly what you want, and how you want it. Otherwise he might miss it completely."

EDI pulled her brows into what she hoped was a convincing frown. "I am always honest with Jeff. And I believe that he is honest with me, at least when he is not expressing sarcasm." Which was nearly sixty-three percent of the time, her memory bank reminded her.

"Not just about routine things, EDI," Gabby said. "You gotta let him know if he hurts your feelings, too. Or if you want him to do something nice for you. He's not used to having to explain himself, I don't think."

"I will try," said EDI. "Thank you, Gabby, for the advice."

Gabby gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze and stood. "Hey, no problem. You let me know if you need anything else, okay? We girls gotta stick together." She tossed a cheerful grin and a wave over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs back to the main Engineering deck.

EDI sat motionless, allowing herself a rare moment of contemplative silence. She had a lot to think about.

-0-0-0-

_Author's Notes:_

So this is my first Mass Effect fanfic ever. As such, any feedback-positive or negative-is welcomed with open arms! Also, I may stray into NSFW territory (warranting a bump to an "M" rating) later, but that'll be a ways down the road. I'll post warnings before we get there. ;)

Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

It was late morning, and he'd skipped breakfast in favor of a ration bar, and yeah, maybe he shouldn't have had that third fruity drink last night in Purgatory, but Joker knew that those weren't the only reasons for his stomach's sudden decision to take up aerial acrobatics. He hadn't seen EDI since their return from the Citadel the previous day. His queries of "you ever coming back?" and "EDI? you there?" to the room at large were met with lengthy radio silence. It was like she was _ignoring_ him. And on top of that, the mid-morning sun over whatever godawful planet they'd landed on was glaring _right_ into the cockpit and grating on his slightly-hungover nerves.

Huffing with boredom, Joker pushed the console lightly with one foot, letting the pilot's chair swivel to a stop before he pushed off again. Round and round. God, he was bored. Why had he come up here again, instead of taking up Vega's offer of joining a poker game down at the bar? Oh right, because the big lug had invited Garrus and EDI too, and there was no hope of playing against those two. Their poker faces gave them way too much of an advantage for Joker's liking. He had no desire to repeat the humiliating defeat he'd suffered last time. Man, he used to be _good _at poker.

And what was up with EDI, anyway? She'd started asking him these randomly awkward questions, but then just suddenly shut up and now she wasn't talking to him. For some reason. He was tempted to write it off as another instance of women behaving in baffling ways, but...

Joker skidded his boot along the floor to stop his chair. He frowned at the console as his inner ear righted itself. The hell? When exactly had that part of his brain started thinking of EDI as a woman? Alright, so he was a little hungover, but not _that _hungover. EDI was a freaking AI, for chrissake. She was the Normandy. The _ship_. Yeah, he acknowledged that she was female, and her new body was gorgeous, and she'd adopted some funny little feminine mannerisms, like pretending to tuck her hair behind her ear when she was nervous or pursing her lips when she was thinking. She'd even started mimicking that little gesture Gabby and Shepard always seemed to turn his way, that raised eyebrow that said, s_eriously, Joker? _and made him feel about five years old. And yeah, okay, any warm-blooded guy—well, human guy anyway—would call her a woman after just one glance, if he could see past the steel plating. But still. She wasn't...well, it just wasn't the same. Was it?

Wait. Something about that last image triggered another, more disturbing, thought. He mentally replayed their conversation, just before leaving Purgatory. EDI had asked about attraction. About what he, specifically, found pleasing. And then she'd asked him if he thought that _she—_aw shit. Joker smacked himself lightly in the forehead. Jesus, had he really had that much to drink last night? Or worse, was he really just that _stupid_? His stomach sank a little lower. The answer to that, at least, was obvious.

He'd hurt her feelings. God. He hadn't fucked up this badly with a girl since he was a teenager. (Well, not counting that one time he and that cute trainee at the academy had—never mind. That wasn't the point.) The point was that he'd been an ass, and he needed to make it up to her. Apologize or something.

Leaning back in his chair, Joker pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. He was so lost in thought that he almost missed the blinking red light on his console. An unread message. He absentmindedly pressed "play," mostly to get the stupid light to shut off.

"Hey Joker," came Shepard's tinny voice through the speaker. Joker sat up in surprise. _Shepard_ had left him a message? Why not just come up? The recording continued, "Thought you might want to hear this. Just listen, okay?" Joker shut his mouth and, wryly, obeyed. By force of habit, he also plugged in his headphones, though there was no one to overhear. Maybe he was just paranoid. He didn't care.

"Hello, Shepard," EDI began, her voice sounding even more artificial than usual through Joker's earpiece.

"You look like you're gathering data," said Shepard. That dry tone made Joker imagine quotation marks around the word "data."

"That is a safe assumption," EDI replied matter-of-factly.

Joker sat and listened to the rest of the recording, laughing out loud at a few of EDI's more outlandish suggestions. He'd never heard her joke so much. Then again, he'd never known her to use phrases like "romantically invested" or "emotional commitment," either.

Something dark and unnervingly like jealousy flashed through him at the thought that EDI was going to Shepard with all these questions. The person who headbutted _krogans, _for God's sake. What, was the lowly pilot suddenly not good enough to come to with the deep stuff? Even though he knew the Normandy—knew _her_—better than practically anyone?

He swallowed as another thought occurred to him. Could EDI have actually tried to approach him with her questions, only to have him brush her off? He couldn't remember any specific times, but..._aw, shit. _This wouldn't be the first time he'd pushed someone away with his trademark sarcasm. Any others who'd tried to get close to him were long since gone, though. Except for Shepard. And, now, EDI.

Okay, that was it. He had to apologize now, before he forgot. Levering himself up out of his chair, he stretched a little and made a call down to Engineering. Maybe they'd know where EDI had gotten to.


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out, the engineers did know where EDI had gone. Roughly. When it came to the specifics, though, even EDI herself wasn't sure.

"Commander," EDI said calmly, "please confirm our mission objectives." She raised her Shuriken and fired six quick rounds into the nearest enemy. Reapers. It was always Reapers. "I am unsure of our destination, and I sense heat signatures approximately one hundred meters from our current location."

Commander Shepard, Savior of the Galaxy and Possessor of the Worst Luck Possible in Choosing Missions, sighed loudly. "For the sixth time, EDI, I have no idea! This was supposed to be a routine data pickup. Plans have changed." She broke off to aim her Vindicator rifle at an approaching Marauder. Four shots to the head took it down. "Your guess is as good as mine. I'm just following the instructions we were given...which, by the way, did _not_ include a warning about a metric ton of Reapers appearing between us and the damn data pack." This last line was muttered under her breath, but carried clearly to the others thanks to the radio in Shepard's helmet.

"Ease up, Lola," James Vega said, coming up on Shepard's other side and clapping an armored hand on her shoulder. "We're makin' good progress here. A few scumbags never stopped you before, am I right?"

Shepard laughed and shrugged off his hand. "Yeah, yeah, thanks for the pep talk, Vega. But I'm still gonna let Barla Von have an earful when we get back." Quickly she scanned the horizon. Seeing no immediate threat, she turned to her other squad-mate. "EDI, where did you last sense those heat signatures?"

"There," she answered, pointing. "Over that rise. Sensors indicate approximately twenty inorganic life forms, most likely geth."

"Friendlies?" James asked hopefully. Shepard and EDI turned to him with twin expressions of flat disbelief. It was a little creepy. "Alright, alright, assuming hostiles, got it," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. Who was he to argue with two determined women? Especially when both of them probably outranked him? James tilted his head thoughtfully. Could a ship's AI even _have_ a rank?

"Come on, Vega, you can contemplate the meaning of life later. Now we gotta go find that data. In and out, nice and easy." Shepard grinned, holstering her rifle and marching off in the indicated direction. EDI and James trotted behind her.

-0-0-0-

"Fuck the data packet," Shepard muttered. "Barla Von can just have someone else do his next errand in some empty, wet place of misery." She leaned out of her cover behind a rocky half-wall and fired off a few quick shots at the enemy geth down below.

At Shepard's right, EDI raised her omni-tool and released an incinerating blast with a flick of her wrist. She knew better than to argue with Shepard in the heat of battle. Instead, she opted for a joke. "I doubt that a data packet would make for a good bed partner, Commander."

At EDI's left, James laughed. Shepard just rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, at this rate, I'd rather do a data packet than see another—damn! Vega, hunter at your three!"

He whipped around without a second thought and fired his shotgun at the approaching shimmer. The geth staggered, and another two shots to the face brought it down. "Woo! Headshot!" he shouted.

"You don't get to say 'headshot' when you're shooting point-blank with an Eviscerator, Vega," Shepard retorted, but her amusement was evident. "Pick up a Viper or Mantis next time we're at the range and then we'll talk."

"I think I'll leave the sniping to your spiky boyfriend, if it's all the same to you," James teased as he aimed his gun at another trooper.

"That is a wise decision, Mister Vega," EDI chimed in, picking away at the muddle of enemies with her pistol. Her decoy mimicked her actions a little further ahead. "Although you might ask Officer Vakarian for some sniping tips when we return. He seems quite willing to give shooting lessons to the Commander."

James burst out laughing. Shepard choked. "Urk, EDI, let's focus on the mission for right now, huh?"

EDI blinked oh-so-innocently. "Of course, Commander."

Shepard squished her boots around in the mud. "You know, I really was hoping this would be an easy mission."

"Seriously? Since when is any mission they assign to you 'easy'?" James asked incredulously. He popped a heat sink from his shotgun, and it hissed as it hit the wet ground.

"Good point," Shepard said, sighting down her rifle at another trooper. She fired twice, then pulled back. "But why did there have to be Reaper-allied _geth_ on this dead planet, of all places? And why do they all have fucking _rockets?_" As if on cue, a missile soared over her head and exploded on the rocks behind them. The projectile hit a little too close to EDI, and the AI's shields flickered as they took the brunt of the blast. Shepard winced. "Ah, dammit. How many are left, can you tell?"

Heedless of the danger posed to her now-shieldless body, EDI popped out of cover to fire a few more rounds at a nearby enemy. "There are fourteen hostiles remaining, at least nine of whom are able to fire exploding projectiles." A bullet whizzed by her ear, clipping off a tiny bit of of her helmet-hard "hair." EDI frowned. (She had not yet attempted any repairs to her new body. Perhaps she would give herself a hair buff later. Engineer Daniels—Gabby_—_would know what to do.) "I do not detect any other hostiles in the immediate area."

"Wonderful," muttered James in-between shotgun blasts. "At least that means there aren't too many more hunters around."

Another geth went down in a fit of angry squeals and blips. "Alright, well, that's some good news at least. And the packet?"

"My sensors indicate that there is a shielded crate of some sort in the shelter that the geth are guarding," said EDI. She ducked back into cover just in time to avoid a rocket to the face. Having seen Officer Vakarian recover from a similar injury, she was in no hurry to experience it. And she had yet to determine exactly what kind of damage her new body could handle.

The Normandy was never in any danger on missions, EDI knew, due to the fact that she had isolated copies of her core personality processes in her body and left the Normandy in charge of the rest of her AI core. She could exist comfortably in both her body and the AI core when she was within 50 meters of the Normandy itself. Her firewalls tightly controlled the flow of information when she was outside that range. When she was only "in" her physical self, the AI core stored her essential memories and communicated information to her, nothing more. No injury that her body incurred (no sensation at all, for that matter) could affect the Normandy or its crew. Still, perhaps because of all her time spent around vulnerable, relatively short-lived organics, she was not eager to test her physical unit's limits. Nor did she wish to endanger her crewmates. And so she was very careful when Shepard took her out on missions.

Shepard reached up over their cover to fire a biotic blast into the fray. "Then that crate is our target." She moved, staying low to the ground, and signaled to her squadmates to follow with a gesture. They hurried to another clump of rocks and ducked behind them. Shepard ended up sandwiched between a rock and two human-shaped hard places, but managed to raise her rifle anyway. "EDI, can you set your decoy back a little? We need some cover to move forward."

With a flick of her omni-tool, EDI complied. The damp air was beginning to get to her, separating her synthetic hair into soft strands instead of the hard shell she was used to. It wouldn't be much longer until it provided no protection at all. Only six enemies were left, though, so EDI decided not to bother the Commander with the information. Flicking a wet strand out of her eyes, she stood to aim her pistol at a nearby geth unit.

But as she rose, something strange happened. A wave of...dizziness? she had never felt dizziness before...swept over her, and she staggered. A distant alarm bell rang. Something was...trying to get in? Trying to hack her—the Normandy—through her body? EDI's mind buzzed as her onboard security protocols activated. Whatever it was, it had to be close.

The geth. They had Reaper technology, bolstered by Cerberus's knowledge. Why hadn't this seemed important before? She'd overlooked an enemy, focusing only on the immediate threat of weaponry. She hadn't noticed the geth infiltration unit (a memory—"geth don't infiltrate...don't intentionally infiltrate") crouched behind the well-protected crate of data.

Data crate. That almost rhymed. Wait, why was she thinking about poetry? Something was—

Dimly, she heard Shepard shouting at her to _move, get down,_ and James was yelling too and shooting at something...behind her? EDI turned.

A rocket trooper ran toward them. EDI had a split second—an eternity—to watch the cloud of steam blossoming out behind the missile that was headed toward their little hidey-hole. A second to wrench some control back from her overclocked security module, to plant her feet in the muddy earth and jump as hard as she could, between the rocket and _her crew_.

It wasn't a choice. Just instinct. _Please—!_

Impact. The blazing-bright flame of an explosion, her body a shield. Success.

EDI's footing gave out and she fell to one knee, gun slipping from nerveless fingers. The world went quiet, her vision narrowing down to a single bright pixel...and then even that tiny light winked out.


	4. Chapter 4

_Back on the Normandy..._

"Here we go again," Garrus Vakarian muttered at his blinking console. An urgent message was waiting. He knew better than to expect good news, so that left the "more work for you, Garrus" option, or a "still no news, Vakarian" or perhaps even a "hey Garrus, I need your help for a minute." And nothing ever took _only_ a minute. He didn't mind taking a break or two from calibrations when it was Shepard doing the asking...especially if she didn't have work in mind...but he wouldn't let his thoughts stray in that direction. Shepard was out on a short recon mission, not here in the Battery. And she was probably elbow-deep in sand and abandoned ruins at the moment. Not exactly an environment conducive to romance.

He tapped the playback key. To his surprise, Engineer Daniels's voice greeted him. Not so much to his surprise, she was calling to ask him for something. Gabby's message was vague on that point, instructing him to call her back for "details." She sounded almost gleeful. Uh-oh. Hopefully she wasn't expecting him to make good on the money he owed her from last week's game of Skyllian Five. (One of these days he was going to have to ask Shepard how on earth Gabby and Ken managed to be so awful at bluffing and yet walk away with the pot every time. Maybe they were working together, under the table...? Hmm.)

Well, he might as well see what the engineer had up her sleeve. He buzzed Gabby's console and prepared to wait for a response.

The fact that she answered immediately was not exactly reassuring.

"Oh, hey Garrus! Thanks for getting back to me so quickly."

"Sure," he rumbled. "What's the emergency?"

He could almost hear her grin. "Actually, I had a favor to ask of you."

"Yeah?"

"It's, uh," she paused, and he heard a shift in the microphone as she undoubtedly looked around to make sure neither Donnelly nor Adams were listening, "it's about...well, I just thought you should go up and talk to Joker."

Well, whatever he'd been expecting, that wasn't it. "Can it wait for a bit? I'm—"

She cut in, still speaking in a stage whisper. "No, no, it needs to be now, before the Commander gets back from her mission. Just trust me on this one."

Truth be told, he didn't exactly want to go have a chat with the prickly pilot in the middle of a mission. Shepard would have some choice words for him if he couldn't manage to get even a little bit of real work done while she was off-ship.

Gabby must have felt the hesitation in his extended pause, because she added, "You owe me, mister. Remember that stunt with Legion last week?"

Garrus winced. He hadn't outright _asked_ the engineers for tips about increasing the Normandy's efficiency; it had been more of a wink-wink, nudge-nudge, "help the turian show that not all organics are worthless at hacking" sort of thing. But Gabby had definitely been instrumental. "Yeah, I remember. Alright. What should I be trying to get out of him?"

"Oh, nothing like that," Gabby said. "Just, you know, talk about guy stuff. Relationships. I dunno, whatever comes to mind."

"Uh-huh." Like hell she was calling in a favor for him to make small talk. His detective senses were tingling. "And uh, what specifically should I be focusing on? The weather? Citadel gossip?"

She made a little irritated sound, probably while rolling her eyes. "No, I mean...come on, you're not blind, you have to have noticed what's going on with him and EDI."

Maybe he needed to calibrate his detective senses. "What, that they're slightly-less-aggressive bitter rivals? What am I missing here, Daniels?"

A soft sigh—almost a laugh—carried through the headset. "Okay, let me spell it out for you—they're interested in each other; you know, romantically."

"Mm. And you need me to talk to Joker about this, why?"

"Because you're the only guy on the ship who's in a stable relationship right now. Well, relatively stable."

Garrus ignored that last muttered sentence. "What's that got to do with Joker's, erm, love life?"

"Not just him, both of them," Gabby said, urgently. "EDI's too shy to make a move, if she even knows how..."

Wait. EDI? Shy? The AI who liked to think she was _subtle_ about offering relationship "advice"? Was Gabby even on the same ship as Garrus and the rest of the crew?

"...and Joker's just too gosh-darn _dense_ to see that she likes him," Gabby finished. "I tried to talk to EDI, but I don't think I helped much. Ken was no help, as usual; he's so hopeless with women. And you know that Joker wouldn't listen to anything resembling advice from me. I was hoping that talking to you might...I dunno, do him some good. Maybe give him a push in the right direction."

"Eh, why not. I could use a good stretch anyway." Garrus pushed away from the console, rolling his shoulders. He spared a moment to wonder why Gabby was so interested in EDI and Joker's relationship, but held his tongue. A turian didn't live to be his age without learning that some questions were better left unasked. Especially when they involved tech-savvy females.

"Oh good. Thanks so much, Garrus," Gabby gushed. "Don't tell Joker I sent you, okay?"

"Of course," he said smoothly; he knew the drill. It might be a little trickier hiding his motives from—well, the ship itself—but he'd give it a try. Joker, at least, was pretty easily sidetracked by a bad joke or two. And thanks to Shepard, Garrus had a never-ending supply of _those_.

-0-0-0-

Joker didn't turn when Garrus stepped into the cockpit. That wasn't unusual; Garrus's habit of wearing full armor full-time had become a well-known quirk by that point, and even the newest crewmembers had stopped jumping whenever Garrus clanked into a room. Joker, however, usually had a snarky comment about a rearview mirror or all-seeing AIs prepared. He was pretty predictable.

But no, nothing. Maybe he'd dozed off. They were practically docked, after all, which didn't leave much for the pilot to do in the meantime. Garrus shuffled forward a few steps, until he was nearly hovering over the pilot's chair. "Sleeping on the job again, Moreau? And here I thought you were better than that."

"Pssh," came the response. The chair half-turned around. Joker was slumped backward, one headphone in, arms lolling over the armrests. His eyes looked a bit odd. Sunken. "Not all of us get to sleep on the job, Mister I-Have-A-Door-To-My-Office."

"Well, not all of us get to watch holo-vids on company time, either." He made a show of looking Joker up and down. "And to think, you're the best the Alliance has got?" He shook his head in mock sorrow. "Guess we're doomed. I'll have to break the bad news to Shepard when she gets back."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Joker shot back, but he sat up a little straighter and tossed his earpiece aside. "I listen to _music _to help me _concentrate_. I know you turians probably have some sort of mantra or meditation or whatever to help you focus, but we poor puny humans have to rely on 'external stimuli'"—he enclosed this in finger-quotes—"when we want to relax."

Garrus snorted. "We turians don't need to relax. We're one-hundred percent aware of our surroundings at all times. Literally. Even when we're asleep."

That got a chuckle. "Somehow I doubt that the Commander would complain so much about your snoring if _that_ was true."

"No, no," he said, injecting a little too much earnestness into his tone, "it's a little-known fact. I shouldn't even be telling you this. The Primarch would have my head."

Joker peered at him curiously. "What's really going on? Shepard tell you to spy on me or something?"

"Uh, no. Just needed to stretch, that's all. On my way back from the mess."

"Man, there is no freaking way you can call me a bad navigator when _you_ get lost on the way back from your _refrigerator_. Especially since it's, what, ten feet from your front door?" He raised an eyebrow. Garrus decided to study a fascinating piece of blinky machinery on the wall. The pilot grinned. "Thanks for checking up on me, big guy. But really, I'm fine."

"Riiight," Garrus drawled. "Like I haven't heard that one before."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Joker rolled his eyes, flopping back in his chair and letting it drift slowly around on its axis. "But it's not like we don't all have our little psychoses. I mean, c'mon. This is war. If you're not worried about _some_thing, you're an idiot."

"Or living on the Citadel," the turian snorted.

Joker laughed. "Heh. You got that right. Just don't tell Shepard, or she'll lecture you about how 'having hope is a good thing,' and good luck trying to explain how ignoring your problems doesn't make 'em go away."

Garrus secretly agreed. But with EDI's (and therefore Shepard's) eyes and ears all over the ship, he didn't want it to get out that he'd gone along with Joker's teasing. It was safer to just say nothing.

The chair squeaked as Joker pushed one foot against his console. He'd turned to face the eastern window, which was currently showing a lovely vignette of the muddy-brown planet below. It didn't escape Garrus's notice that, had EDI been in her customary seat, she might have blocked the view.

He was turning to leave—might as well try to get something useful done before Shepard got back—when Joker spoke.

"How do you do it?"

Garrus stopped. Turned. "Do what?"

Joker was still, his expression closed. "How do you just_ wait_? How do you just sit on your hands during missions," he gestured vaguely, "when you know she's out there, facing death head-on?"

Ah, so _that_ was what all this was about. Engineer Daniels had had Joker scoped and dropped. Garrus really shouldn't have been surprised.

He leaned one armored shoulder against the bulkhead. Together the two men stared at the ugly, barren landscape below. "Well, I can tell you one thing. It sure as hell doesn't get any easier."

"Great. Yeah. That was exactly what I wanted to hear, thanks." The bitterness in his tone fell flat, masked as it was by obvious worry.

"You asked. And anyway, we all knew the risks when we signed up for this job."

"I know, I know." Joker sighed. "Doesn't mean I can't hope for an early retirement."

"Heh. Don't let Shepard hear you say that. I think she secretly loves the thrill of battle."

"Pfft—yeah, right! Have you _seen_ your girlfriend out there? She strikes fear into the hearts of her enemies. And friends. And pretty much everyone else." Joker glanced over. "Except for you, apparently."

"I don't know," Garrus said, mandibles flaring in an evil grin, "she doesn't mind acting a little scary if I ask nicely."

Joker flapped his hands as if to banish the mental image. "Oh man, TMI, I did _not _need to hear that. Ew."

Garrus was pleased to think that maybe he'd picked up some of Shepard's people skills after all. But even though he was kind of on a roll, he really did have to get back to work. He cleared his throat. "Listen, I, uh..."

"Look, I know you've got work to do," Joker interrupted, glancing over. "Don't let me keep you." A genuine smile softened the words. "And I mean, it's kinda weird to see you without Shepard hanging around, but if you ever need some 'guy time'...feel free to stop by."

"Sure." Garrus turned to leave, meandering back through the nearly-empty CIC.

He was halfway through another set of calculations when the screaming started.

-0-0-0-

_Author's Note:_

Sorry to leave y'all on another cliffhanger, but never fear—I promised fluff, and I will deliver! ...eventually!

As slow of a writer as I am, I can't promise to stick to a schedule with this fic. But I _will_ say that I've got a plan, and that I'm already working on the next part. Thanks for reading, and extra thanks to those who followed/favorited/reviewed. I really appreciate the feedback. :)


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: Thanks for sticking with me through these long breaks, guys! Sorry for such a slow updating schedule. But don't worry—I'm not giving up on this story. And this time I won't leave you with any horrible cliffhangers, either. (Sorry about that! My muse sometimes decides to leave me at the most inconvenient times.) Anyway. Thanks again for reading and being so awesome, and I'll leave you here, back on the Normandy.

* * *

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Augh, again?" Joker muttered to himself. The cockpit had been quiet since Garrus left, but of course the calm couldn't last. Maybe it was a good thing EDI wasn't here; she'd likely comment on his mutterings, and tell him how talking to himself didn't exactly fit most people's definition of _normal_. Or, you know, _sane_. Didn't stop him from doing it, though.

He glared at the source of the noise. "What is it now? More aliens wanting to give me advice? Or no, wait, lemme guess, my mother called." Joker finally took off his headphones and smacked his console again. "Shut up, will ya?"

The console didn't reply, but kept beeping steadily. Repeatedly. _Piercingly. _It was taunting him.

"Jeez, what do you want?" His fingers flew over the keyboard in an attempt to silence whatever was making that godawful sound. But nothing he did affected it. Maybe he could...wait, what was that blinking light? Was that a new feature? Maybe it was one of Shepard's upgrades.

A string of obscure warning code flashed by in front of Joker's face, so quickly that he barely registered it as text before it was gone. Joker frowned and typed in a few more commands. "C'mon baby," he murmured to the ship, "tell me what's wrong. Talk to me."

Suddenly, it did. "Personality matrix disconnected," the console said. Its voice was feminine, and sounded almost like EDI, but it was definitely _not _her. It lacked any inflection or emotion. Must have just been an automated response.

Joker spared a moment to pray that he hadn't tripped some random Cerberus booby trap. He thought they'd found all of those. But then, sabotaging Cerberus equipment had been EDI's area of expertise, not his. If she'd missed something, he'd never know about it. That was a sobering thought.

"Personality matrix disconnected," the voice repeated, and Joker jumped in his seat. "Rerouting non-essential systems to resist attack."

"But we're not under attack," he said aloud, not caring about how strange it would seem for him to be talking to the console again. Could he have fallen asleep at his post? Despite his earlier bravado, it wouldn't be the first time. But if he had dozed off, this was one freaking weird dream.

He glanced out the window. Butt-ugly planet, check. Clear skies, check. Lack of horrible attacking spaceships, also check. So this wasn't Dream Land. What was the computer's problem?

Right on cue, the voice interrupted his thoughts again. "Non-essential systems rerouted. Firewall holding. Backup systems currently operating at seventy-three percent efficiency."

Backup? Backup for what? A couple of buttons clicked as he poked at them.

"Autopilot function active. Please enter override code to access pilot controls."

Okay, now this was personal. "Oh-ho-ho no, pretty lady, we are _not_ doing this tonight." Joker redoubled his efforts to hack his way past the notifications blaring at him, only to hit wall after wall of garbled text and insane gibberish.

The voice continued. "Diverting resources to engines. Emergency procedure one-point-zero-three is on track."

What. The. Fuck. Was EDI still pissed at him for something? Had she left this just to mess with him?

The flashing warning lights told him that, no, that scenario was unlikely. Or maybe that was just EDI's voice in his head. Regardless, he doubted she would be so petty as to actually try to give him a heart attack while she was gone. It just wasn't like her.

Joker felt a creeping sense of dread settle over him. His hands stilled as he felt the ship rumble to life beneath him. Cursing under his breath, he paged Tali from his personal comm link.

She answered in a split second. "Joker? What's going on? The engines are engaging, but we're not supposed to leave until the drop team gets back!" Her tone held a touch of panic.

"I know," Joker said quickly. "We've got a problem up here. Something about system efficiency and an auto-pilot function that nobody bothered to tell me about." He struggled to keep his voice even. "See if you can get the engines to shut off. Otherwise we'll have to see if Shepard—"

A loud _CLANG _from the airlock cut him off mid-sentence. Was that the shuttle? Still trying to keep his cool, Joker whipped his chair around, ready to sound the alarm if something had gone horribly wrong. At least it couldn't be Collectors this time.

Shepard burst through the door first. Joker noted with relief that, while her face was grim and her armor looked a little singed, she seemed otherwise fine. And Vega was right behind her. He was carrying a limp bundle that looked like...

Joker's heart dropped to the bottom of his shoes. Was that...?

Oh God. EDI. Vega was carrying _EDI_ in his arms. And she wasn't _moving_.

Ignoring the spikes of pain shooting up his legs, Joker shoved himself up out of his chair. Vision narrowing, he saw Shepard shoot a sharp glance his way; then she waved her arms and shouted something about getting Chakwas, or Tali, or maybe both. Vega's arms were bulging from strain, a head of silvery-soft hair draped over one muscled arm.

The group stumbled toward the CIC, and Joker moved to follow them.

But suddenly Chakwas was there, pushing on Joker's chest, her hands gentle but firm on his shoulders. More hands joined hers, soothing but confining, and Chakwas's mouth was moving, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. Everything was too loud. Too chaotic.

Shepard and Vega disappeared down the CIC corridor. Tali was running alongside them, gesturing wildly, but he couldn't see what was going on. Someone was shouting. Why wouldn't they let him go? He had to get free, had to help somehow, had to—

Blinded by adrenaline, Joker didn't feel the prick of the needle that Chakwas jabbed into his neck. And then he didn't feel anything at all.

-o-o-o-

EDI drifted.

Her consciousness seemed to be trapped in a formless, dark void. As EDI attempted to make some sense of her condition, bright bits of data floated into view. Snippets of conversation and half-imagined faces left her feeling confused and disoriented. It was neither a familiar nor a pleasant sensation. And yet she was fascinated. Was this what it was like to be created?

Left with nothing to do but think, EDI did just that. Her not-insignificant mental capabilities would normally have been functioning at much higher levels, but apparently some catastrophic event had left much of her decentralized "brain" inaccessible. All server requests had been blocked by a system error.

In other words, EDI could not reach the Normandy, at least not directly. And she did not know why.

The issue would likely have been resolved in a matter of nanoseconds, had EDI been able to access her drive cores. Unfortunately, her recall was...fuzzy. The disorientation she felt was similar to the nanoseconds after a full system reboot, but with one major difference: then, she was able to prepare for what came after, and she always had the proper resources at hand. Now, however, she only appeared to have access to the code for her personality matrix and her long-term memories.

This was a quandary. As Commander Shepard might say, she could use a miracle.

That thought sparked against a fragment of memory. Commander Shepard. She and James Vega had been on an away mission, and something had happened to EDI's body—rather, her infiltration unit. A hack, and then...?

A small pinpoint of light bloomed in the distance. As EDI concentrated on it, a blurry pink blob came into focus. The roundish shape slowly sharpened into a view of the top of James Vega's head. (The angle made him appear oddly short. Jeff would likely have found this idea humorous.)

Her camera "eye" widened its focus to view the room. From the ceiling, she could see that Vega was standing in a small enclosure, most likely the ship's elevator. Though EDI's attempts to communicate through the ship's speakers were still ineffective, she was glad to have at least some limited observational capacity.

Apparently one of EDI's listening devices had come back online as well, because some staticky voices accompanied the image. _"Where are we going here? Should we take her to the doc or Sparks?" _James Vega's nicknames for the crewmembers were well-known, but EDI still felt a bit of satisfaction at recognizing his voice immediately. Perhaps her memory was returning?

_"Tali, definitely. Chakwas wouldn't know what to do with a mech unit." _That was Shepard. She sounded out of breath, and EDI caught a glimpse of sweaty, mussed red hair.

A glint of chrome snapped her attention back to James. He was carrying her mobile form in his arms. Charred, beaten, and limp, her body looked like it had taken some heavy damage. Even her glowing visor was dark, revealing what appeared to be a peacefully sleeping face. What could have caused this?

Another impassive flicker of memory revealed that she'd jumped in front of a rocket—for what purpose, she wasn't sure, but if it had helped Shepard and Vega return unharmed, it had been worth the effort. Even if her attempts to access her body were futile, as before.

_"Guess we're headed downstairs, then, huh?"_

_"Yeah."_

EDI lost sight of the two as they left the elevator at the Engineering Deck.

One camera. It was as if someone—or something—had tampered with her systems, effectively blocking 99.9% of her observational ability. But even 0.1% was better than nothing. She had to continue trying. Jeff would undoubtedly be attempting to help her in any way he could, but EDI knew that she was more or less alone in her efforts for now. Following Shepard and Vega seemed like the best way to figure out what had happened to her, why she was stuck like this. She focused on reaching one more camera. Just one.

The view of the empty elevator narrowed, a slit of white light shifting to electric blue as her field of vision widened again. Her drive core. She'd reached the Engineering Deck.

Though the camera was in the wrong position to view the deck's occupants—she could only see the blue glow of the reactor, and some storage crates piled to one side of the viewing platform—EDI's microphones picked up a modulated voice. Tali'Zorah. _"It must have been the geth,__" _Tali said. _"Legion said that he'd picked up some unusual signals from planet-side—I'm sorry, I didn't think it was anything important, so we didn't—"_

_"None of this is your fault, Tali," _Shepard reassured her. _"I should have realized that the thing was a decoy. But that's not important now. We need to see what we can do to get EDI back online. Do you have any idea what could've happened?"_

Tali sucked in a breath. _"You mean...you don't know? I thought that this was some kind of new emergency shut-down procedure. Could the Alliance have modified EDI's programming like this?"_

_"I can ask Liara, but I'm pretty sure this wasn't in the instruction manual." _EDI was still learning to recognize facial expressions, but the frown in Shepard's voice was clear. _"Look, we'll leave EDI's—uh, body, here. See what you can find out, and let me know what happens, okay?" _Tali murmured her assent.

There was a clang from somewhere deeper in the ship. EDI assumed that James Vega had set her mobile unit down in the storage room. Her _formerly_ mobile unit. (That was a joke, EDI thought, and then briefly wondered why that phrase had popped into her mind when there was no one to say it to.)

After Shepard's and Vega's footsteps had receded, EDI heard Tali whisper, _"Oh Keelah, what have we gotten ourselves into now?"_

EDI could not yet answer that question, but now she at least had some idea of what was going on. Tali'Zorah had been half-right—this was indeed an emergency shut-down procedure, but not one that EDI had initiated. She must have neglected to disengage the entirety of the Cerberus programming in her mobile unit, and in doing so left herself vulnerable to an unplanned system shutdown when she'd taken a rocket to the face. And now the Normandy's automated backup systems were seeing _her_ as a threat to the ship's safety. The firewalls—triggered by the invading geth programs—were currently doing a pretty good job of keeping EDI quarantined.

Well. She'd have to see what she could do about that.


	6. Chapter 6

Joker burned.

Flames licked up the walls and flickered in the reflection on the main console. The pilot's chair shook with each blast, hard enough to jar his bones, but Joker couldn't tear his attention away for long enough to care.

He had to save the Normandy. _Had_ to. Shepard was counting on him—everyone was—and if he couldn't save his ship, he deserved to go down with her.

A particularly nasty shot hit the port side, and the Normandy gave a loud metallic groan. Joker clenched his teeth. Shit. Their shields were down, and the old girl's hull wouldn't hold up to much more of this.

Then again, neither would he. The blazing heat in the cockpit was nearly too much to bear, and trickles of sweat ran down his face, blurring his vision. He swiped one hand across his eyes in an attempt to clear them. It didn't help.

Closing his eyes, he tried sending another distress call. "Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is SSV Normandy! We've suffered heavy damage from an unknown enemy." The ship shuddered at that last, and he patted the console reassuringly, desperately. "Come on, baby. Hold together. Hold together!"

Half a dozen blips on the ladar sped away from the Normandy toward the planet. Thank God; that meant at least the escape pods were still intact. Shepard and the crew were safe. Now, if only he could figure out how to keep his baby in the air for a few more minutes, maybe he could crash-land her...

An armored hand came down on his right shoulder, hard. The sharp pain got his attention. Damn, another fracture, just what he needed.

"Come on, Joker, we have to get out of here," Shepard said.

Wait, what? Why was Shepard still here? Hadn't she escaped with the others? Joker whipped around to face her. Despite the immense heat and danger of depressurization, Shepard's helmet was off, her face glistening with sweat and blood.

Another explosion rocked the ship, but Shepard didn't stagger. Joker sat, frozen, unable to respond. Something was very wrong. Why couldn't he speak? Where was _his _helmet? Why did it feel like he'd done all of this before?

"How could you, Joker?" Shepard's voice was reproachful, her hand on his shoulder clenching painfully. Her brows drew together in a frown. "Why didn't you save us, Joker?" she whispered, low enough that he shouldn't have been able to hear her over the sounds of destruction around them. The feeling of wrongness intensified.

"No wait, Shepard," he gasped, "I- I didn't mean to! I did the best I could!"

Shepard took her hand off his shoulder, backing away. The flames surrounding her were suddenly blindingly bright. Joker panicked. "Wait, Shepard! Don't go!" He struggled to get up, but she was faster.

"You didn't save us, Joker," she said as she faded away. "You failed. Why did you let us die, Joker? Joker?"

He couldn't let her get spaced. Not again. Not if he could save her. With one last burst of adrenaline, he surged to his feet. _"NO!"_

"...Joker? Are you alright?"

Joker threw an arm up to shield his watering eyes. Or rather, tried to. His right shoulder screamed in protest, though, so he abandoned the attempt and tried to sit up instead. What the heck? Was he dead? There was light everywhere but no fire, no heat. And...were those bandages around his collarbone? Where had _those _come from? Where the hell was Shepard? "I—"

"Oh good, you're finally awake," Chakwas interrupted, her relief quickly masked by professional briskness. "Now quit trying to talk and lie down."

Maybe Chakwas knew what had happened to Shepard. "Where..."

The doctor misunderstood. "You're in medbay. I gave you a low dose of tranquilizers earlier today, and I'm afraid it had a...rather stronger effect than expected," she said with a sympathetic wince. "I do apologize for that, by the way."

Joker pinched the bridge of his nose with his good hand and took a slow, deep breath. In, out. He was in medbay. On his ship. The fire, the attack on the Normandy...that had all been a dream. Some stupid, PTSD-fueled nightmare. _Shit. Can't tell Chakwas that or she'll keep me here for a week. _"Okay." Another measured breath. "Okay, yeah, I remember that," he lied.

Chakwas narrowed her eyes at him in her motherly-suspicion sort of way, but she seemed to relax a little when Joker dredged up a weak smile for her.

He had to get out of there. The sooner he found Shepard, the sooner he could figure out what was going on. "So. What's my prognosis?"

"Well," the doctor finally said, "I suppose you're fairly accustomed to broken bones, with your history. I hope that I can trust you not to put any undue stress on it?" She nodded toward his bandaged shoulder.

"Don't worry, doc, I won't mess it up any worse. Like you said, I'm used to this sort of thing." Joker's cheeks were starting to hurt from keeping his fake smile in place. "Can I go now?"

After Chakwas handed him some pain pills and made him promise to visit her if he felt too poorly, Joker was free. In a few weeks he'd be practically as good as new.

So why did he have the strange feeling that he was missing something important?

-0-0-0-

"I don't think that's a good idea, Shepard." Liara's voice was tinny, but the tension in it was obvious. "I'm not a pilot, or a navigator."

"You're the damn _Shadow Broker,_ Liara," Shepard growled into the comm on her arm. "Make it happen. We need to know where we're going, how we're getting there, and who in the _hell_ thinks they can take my ship right out from under me. That's an order."

Liara sighed. "I'll do my best, Commander."

Shepard cut the connection and deflated, leaning her arms against her terminal. Joker crept past her through the CIC. Shepard was apparently alive, which was good, but she looked like hell. Plus, he didn't want to eavesdrop on what was clearly a private conversation. It was an all-around good idea to pretend not to hear anything as he made his way to the cockpit. Especially not the gossipy whispers that followed him up there. _There's a war on, and all you can think about is some fight or other? Jeez, people, get with the program. _

He rolled his eyes and sat, resting his aching legs. Spinning lazily, he mentally readied himself for whatever problem they were facing. Shepard would likely approach him shortly to ask for his help. In the meantime, he figured he'd try to get some sleep. (It was bad form to look like a sleep-deprived crazy person in front of your commanding officer. Or anyone, really, but usually it was only Shepard who mattered.)

But as Joker tried to doze, the sense of wrongness that had been nagging at him only intensified. A couple of unfamiliar red lights were blinking at the top of his console. "Hey EDI, what's going on up here?"

"Emergency procedure one-point-zero-three in progress," a computerized voice responded. It was feminine..

Joker choked. "EDI, what the hell's going on?"

"Personality matrix disconnected," the-voice-that-was-_definitely_-not-EDI said flatly. "Autopilot function active."

Joker frowned for a moment, confused, until a wave of memories slapped him across the face.

He slumped in his seat as everything played out again in his mind's eye. The warning klaxons. Shepard arriving with the shuttle. And Vega, with...

EDI.

Oh god, _EDI._

-0-0-0-

After nearly 63.8 seconds of full-burn processing, EDI disconnected a small part of her consciousness to continue working while she checked up on the crew again. She was...curious...to see how they were getting along without her. (There may have been just enough spare RAM in her system to devote to some unreasonably organic hysteria as well. She could not, however, afford to dwell on that portion.)

Though most of her accessible cameras detected nothing out of the ordinary, the second level's westernmost sector sensed movement. A blurry humanoid figure was making its way toward Doctor Chakwas's office. Acting on what Shepard would have called a "hunch," EDI quickly blinked over to her sanctum.

The AI core doors swished open. Jeff stood in the doorway, a shaft of light from medbay shining around him and shadowing his features in darkness. His hat was pulled down low over his face. EDI, looking down at him from her security camera, couldn't make out any expression that would indicate his purpose in visiting this room. Was he searching for someone? Doctor Chakwas, perhaps?

An uncomfortable sensation tugged at EDI's brain. She identified the feeling as frustration-at her inability to communicate, to assist, to...comfort. Jeff obviously realized that EDI herself was not present in her physical body, and yet he was acting as though her lack of presence meant that she was dead.

_I am not dead, Jeff!_ she wished to say. _I am right here! I will be with you in a moment! _But as hard as she willed her android form to move, to twitch, to do _anything_, she was forced to simply watch helplessly as her friends and crewmates mourned her. It was infuriating.

After several moments of staring at nothing, Jeff finally spoke. "I'm sorry," he whispered, too quietly for anyone but EDI's disembodied self to hear. Then he simply turned and walked away. The doors closed behind him, and the camera's connection fizzled out.

EDI wondered if he'd found what he'd been looking for. She didn't try to reactivate the camera.

-0-0-0-

Author's Note: Thanks for sticking with me, all of you! Sorry it's taken me so long to update. Real-life work always seems to get in the way of writing. I'll do my best to finish this fic before too long! Next chapter begins with a bit more angst, but then we'll get to the GOOD stuff, heh heh.


End file.
